Thanksgiving
by forgotten child
Summary: Thanksgiving at Roger and Mark's. Everyone's comming over. Now T for drug use and alchohol. Humorous at parts.
1. Voicemails

Dis-claim: I love RENT, but own it not. I'm thankful for Jonathan Larson, and RENT.

Synops: Thanksgiving at Marks and Roger's. When everyone is happy and living and stuff. Angel's alive, Maureen and Joanne are together, Mimi and Roger are together and clean.

Chapter 1: Voicemails

BEEEP

"Hey, guys. Joanne here,"

"—And Maureen!" a second voice interjected.

"Yes. We are just calling to confirm dinner tomorrow night."

"You don't need to RSVP them, Pookie!" The second voice said.

"Maureen," whispered Joanne, "please. Anyway, guys, we'll be there with the turkey. Be thankful that my apartment is furnished with an oven."

BEEEP

BEEEP

"Roger, hi, it's Mimi. Just checking in about Thanksgiving dinner. I've got pie, right? I'll bring my grandmother's special Pumpkin Spice Pie. See you later,"

BEEEP

BEEEP

"Happy Thanksgiving, Crackers! It's Collins, man. Angel n' I'll be there with the stuffin'. Clean a little before we get there, ok?"

BEEEP

BEEEP

"Marky! Why do you always screen your calls? We miss you here, you're never home for the holidays anymore. You dear sister is here, and her kids. There's another little one. They just keep coming!"

"Lemme talk!" a man shouted, "Mark, when you coming home? I never disowned you. You still stuck on Maureen? Let's hope not, it's been almost a year. You need to get over her."

"Mark!" his mother said, "Happy turkey day! Have fun with your friends!"

BEEEP


	2. Happy Thanksgiving, Crackers

Chapter 2: Happy Thanksgiving, Crackers

"Mark, where'd you put that pot thing?" Roger called to his roommate.

"Pot?" Mark asked, "What pot?"

Roger stared at him. "Don't tell me that you didn't get it!"

"Get what?"

"A pot for the mashed potatoes!" Roger practically screamed. Mark's eyes opened wide.

Roger sighed, and sat down. _So much for a real Thanksgiving feast_, he thought.

He stood.

"I'll see if Mimi has one," he said, walking out the door.

Once he was gone, Mark approached the table. They'd gotten folding chairs the day before from the eleventh street lot. He counted in his head,_ Mimi, Angel, Collins, Maureen, Joanne, Roger and I. That's seven people. Do we even have seven plates?_

He opened a cabinet and was able to scrounge together seven plates, and seven cups.

Roger walked in, with a large metal pot.

"Thank God her mom is as weird as yours is," he laughed, "This was her birthday present."

Mark looked at his watch. "When are they coming over?" he asked.

"At six. Why, what's the time?"

"Five-thirty," he laughed. He took the pan from Roger, and poured some water from the tap in it. He tore the tope of an Instant Potatoes packet off, and added it's contents. He handed it to Roger, who was setting up the chairs.

"Here," he said, "Put it on the hot plate for about ten minutes."

Just as Roger was flipping the switch to the 'on' position, Mimi walked in.

"Hey guys," she laughed. "I'm early, but I was bored." She placed two pumpkin pies onto the long metal table, and proceeded to pull a small turkey figurine out pf her pocket. "I thought you could use a centerpiece."

"How thoughtful," Roger grinned, and kissed Mimi.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Will someone stir the potatoes," he asked.

Roger moved to the side dish again, and Mimi began to straighten the table settings.

"This place looks like a soup kitchen," she laughed.

"Well," Mark said, "it kind of is. We're feeding the poor and starving."

Just then the telephone rang. It range twice, and the answering machine picked up.

BEEEP

"Man, do you ever answer your phone?" Collins' voice came through the machine. "Angel n' I are down here with your frickin' stuffing, now let us in!"

BEEEP

Mark grabbed the from door key and went to the balcony. Below him, Collins and Angel stood. Angel was in festive drag, and Collins held a pan of stuffing. He tossed the metal key ring to the 'Pilgrim Girl,' who caught it with one foot in the air.

Mark went back inside the loft to see Mimi and Roger in a passionate embrace again. He sighed.

"Well, I know what _you_ are thankful for," he smirked, mostly to himself.

"Go…film something," Roger joked.

"Mimi!" Angel called from the doorway of the loft, "Those pies smell _delicioso_! "

"And you look…" Mimi paused, taking in Angel's getup, "festive!" she laughed.

Roger turned to see what Angel was wearing on this holiday. She always had a way with fabrics.

The drag queen stood there in knee-high socks, and a thigh-long Pilgrim dress, complete with a large buckle. Her black wig was topped off with a Pilgrim hat, and her feet wore her usual black pumps.

"And where are the drum sticks?" Roger laughed, as Mimi hit him in the stomach.

"Right here," Angel grinned, reaching up her dress. "Ka-pow!" she exclaimed, revealing her favorite instrument.

"You've got a full-service woman there," He laughed again. Mimi shot him a look, and he put his hands up defensively. "What?"

Mimi rolled her eyes, and linked arms with Angel. "Men," she joked, "can't live with them, can't live without them!"

"I can!" said a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Maureen standing there, with Joanne struggling with a large turkey behind her. "Gotta love extra keys," Maureen giggled, waving her key ring.

"Baby," grunted the lawyer behind her, "Could you give me a hand?"

Collins ran over, and took the cooked bird off of her hands.

"Thanks for all of the help, Maureen," sighed Joanne. Maureen rolled her eyes at her lover.

"Pookie," she laughed, "I offered to carry it!" She walked over to Roger.

Mark began to open a can of cranberry sauce. Joanne whispered to him over the whirr of the machine. "She almost dropped it," she confessed, "_twice_."

Mark smirked. "Pookie," he said. She hit him in the arm.

"Hey," Roger said, annoyed that Mimi had abandoned him to sit with Angel on the couch, "Can we eat soon? I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Collins laughed, throwing his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Why don't you sell your old guitar and buy some food?"

"It's rather sell my soul," Roger confessed.

"Trust me," Mark sighed, bringing the sauce to the table, "It's not fun."

"Oh, how _is_ Alexi Darling?" Maureen took attention. "Does she need another segment? We could shoot another protest!"

"Maureen," Joanne cut in, "please. You know that he hates that job."

"Yeah," Mark agreed, "but it's feeding us here today." Everyone laughed.

"Well, is everyone here?" Joanne asked, looking around the room, "We _could_ get started."

"Yeah," Mark said, counting heads, "Take a seat." Everyone sat in a folding chair surrounding the metal table. It not only held their dinner, but also years of memories. He looked at those who sat at his left, Angel, Collins, and Maureen. On his right were Mimi, Roger, and Joanne.

"Whose going to say grace?" asked Mimi.

"How about an Angel," suggested Collins, "she is the closest to heaven."

Angel grinned, and stood. As she was about to begin, and knock came at the door.


	3. the Unexpected Guest

Chapter 3: The Unexpected Guest

"Who could that be?" Collins mumbled, annoyed that someone would interrupt Angel's prayer.

"I have no idea," Mark answered, making his way to the door. He pulled it open, and everyone gasped as they saw him.

"What?" the man asked, "Hasn't anyone seen a landlord before?"

"What do you want, Benny?" Roger asked. The tall man grinned.

"Just coming to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving. I turned on the heat this morning."

"Yeah," Mark said, letting Benny inside, "We noticed. Thanks."

"Why hello, Benjamin," Maureen sneered, "what brings you to the 'slums,' as you so generously call everything below 42nd street."

"Nice to see you too, Maureen," he smiled.

"Not to be rude," Collins said, breaking the tension between the two, "_why_ are you here?"

"What?" Benny said, sarcastically defensive, "Can't a guy spend the holidays with his friends?"

"His friends?" Mark choked.

"Since when are we your friends?" Roger asked, "And where is Muffy?"

"_Allison_," Benny corrected, "is visiting some friends upstate."

Collins gave him a skeptical look. "I don't know, man," he said, "I got a funny feeling about this."

Benny reached behinds the wall and pulled out two six-packs of Heineken.

"Funny feeling gone!" Collins laughed, as he walked over and hugged Benny. "Nice to see you, man."

"I knew booze would change your mind," Benny laughed.

Angel saw the way Collins' eyes lit up, and stood. "Here, honey," she said to the guest, "you sit here."

Benny shook his head. "No, I couldn't take the seat of a…lady?" Everyone nodded their heads.

"You can eat with is," Roger said, shooting a look at Mimi, "but if you start anything, you're out."

"Roger, relax, ok?" Mimi said, "There was nothing between us!" she rolled her eyes at her over-protective boyfriend.

Benny turned to Mark. "You really don't mind if I eat with your guys?"

Mark shrugged. "I guess not,"

"We were just about to say grace," Joanne piped in.

"Oh, well then," Benny smiled, "continue."

Mark got an extra chair and plate, and Benny sat down next at the empty end.

"Well," Angel suggested, standing again, "Let's just toast to what we're thankful for." She raised her glass. "To true love!"

Collins stood, also, and took her hand. "To a lover that will cover you!"

"To music!" Roger said, taking his glass.

Mimi roller her eyes, and stood. "To honesty!" she laughed.

"To a real holiday," Mark chimed in.

"Prosperity!" Joanne shouted, standing.

Maureen raised her glass. "To performance spaces!" she added, eyeing Benny.

The tall man stood with the rest. He lifted his glass, and said, "To friends!"

"To friends!" The gang cheered, and drank.


	4. Carving the Turkey

Thanks, rentaholic00 for the great idea! Here goes nothing!

* * *

Chapter 4: Carving the turkey 

Everyone sat down, and glanced around at everyone else. After a moment, Joanne asked the question that was on everybody's mind.

"So," she said, "what now?"

"We eat," Maureen answered, as if her lover were a child. Joanne shot her a 'give me a break' look.

"Well," she retorted, "who's going to carve the turkey?"

"Oh," Mark said, taking attention, "I will,"

"You will?" Collins laughed, passing his joint to Angel.

"Yeah, sure I will."

"OK, man," he said, "but have you ever don't it before?"

Mark sighed and shook his head. "But how hard can it be?"

Collins and Angel just laughed, and she passed him back the joint.

Mark stood, and gripped the knife and fork. He stuck the fork into the turkey, and began to cut. Everyone giggled at his stern look of concentration, and he sighed.

"It's a little more difficult that I though," he admitted.

"Do you want me to do it?" Benny offered.

"No, no," Mark waved him off.

He tried one more to cut into the turkey, without prevailing. He decided to start wit the legs, and attempted to pull his knife out. As he pulled, and bird lifted slightly off the plate.

"It's stuck," he announced, though everyone knew.

Mark wiped his hand on his jeans, and placed it on the side of the turkey. He pushed back while attempting again to remove the knife. He pushed and pulled very hard, and when the knife came loose, and cooked bird skidded down the table. It bumped the bowl of cranberry sauce before it came to a stop. Red, sticky goo spread across the table, and on to Mimi's lap.

She stood and screamed. Roger immediately started to wipe off her dress with a napkin. Angel stood, and took her hand.

"Here, honey," she said, "let's get you cleaned up." The girls walked into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Mark sat down with a sigh, and Roger looked at the mess. Collins began to laugh.

"Very nice," he said, "dinner and a show!"

"Shut up!" Mark shouted, "It's not funny that I ruined Thanksgiving."

"Mark," Joanne said gingerly, "it's alright. We can clean this up."

"I never liked cranberry sauce, anyway," Maureen offered, giving him a smile.

Benny helped put the turkey back onto the plate, and Joanne and Maureen cleaned up the spilled sauce. By that time, Angel and Mimi were back, Mimi's dress with a pink-stained wet spot.

"We tried to wash it," Angel explained, "We'll use club soda later."

"Shall we try again?" Collins asked, smiling smugly.

Mark just put his head on the table. "Knock yourself out," she sighed.

"No, Mark," Benny said, "you try it again. You already have a feel for it."

"Thanks," he responded, "but no thanks. I don't want to ruin dinner anymore."

"Well," Maureen asked, "Will you do the honors of removing the bag inside?"

"No," Mark answered.

Roger sighed and stood. "I will," he said.

He reached his hand inside the bird and pulled out a little brown bag.

"What is this thing?" he laughed, holding it up.

"The organs," Mimi told him.

Roger's face took on a look of complete horror. He closed his eyes and flung the bag away from himself. "Ack!" he shouted.

Everyone's eyes followed the little bag as it flew through the air, and landed in the stuffing. Little pieces of bread crumbs splashed out and covered Joanne, Maureen, and Benny.

"My stuffing!" Angel shouted, trying to contain her disappointment and anger.

"Oh, God!" Roger said, "Gross! The _organs_?"

Mimi took one look at his face, and started cracking up.

"Very classy," Collins said, laughing too. He passed Angel the joint. "Here," he told her, "calm down, it's alright."

Benny reached down onto the floor and picked up a beet bottle. He cracked it open, and raised it up.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said, and took a big swig.

* * *

There, rentaholic00, did I do your idea justice? hehe 


	5. Heineken Brings No Good

This one might be funny, too, but I don't think you'll laugh as much as you seemed to for Ch 4. Man, you guys went wild! I added the marijuana again, because it's funny. Anyway, here it is.

* * *

Chapter 5: Heineken Brings No Good

Eventually, Collins was able to cut the turkey, and everyone was able to eat as if nothing had happened. The small bag that roger so generously tossed was now resting, covered in stuffing, in the trash can behind the sink.

Everyone sat around the loft, lying on couches, and reclining in chairs.

Everyone by Benny.

He still sat in the same place at the table. Two empty Heineken bottles sat in front of him, and he held one right in his fist.

"Man," he said, breaking the silence, "I'm the worst friend ever."

"No," Collins said, smiling at his drunkenness, "you're not, man." He rolled another joint and lit it up.

"Yes I am!" the large man shouted, banging his beer bottle on the table. The sound startled Maureen awake. She looked over at him, rolling her eyes as he began to cry.

"You guys were by best friends!" he sobbed. "And I left you for Allison. You were right, Maureen. I'm a stupid pit-bull. I went over the moon and left you in cyberland!" He stood, almost losing his balance. "Not now, though. I'm sorry. I love you guys. Allison-Schmallison." He stumble over to where Angel sat on Collins' lap, next to Mark on the couch. He squeezed between his old roommates.

"Don't talk like that," Joanne said, from a chair across the room. "You have no need to forget about your wife. You can still have the same old friends."

"No!" he said, too loudly, "I can't!" he finished off his Heineken, and reached for another from the box on the floor. He lost his balance, and ended up on the ground. He climbed back onto the couch and tried to open the beer.

"Here," Collins said, passing the joint to Angel and taking the bottle. He opened it, and handed it back to Benny.

"Thanks!" he extremely intoxicated friends clamored. He polished off that one, and belched loudly enough to wake Mimi, who was asleep on Roger's chest on the other couch.

Joanne made a face.

"Are you seriously this distraught because you dumped us?" Maureen asked, getting annoyed with his behavior.

"No," he replied honestly.

"Then why are you so upset?" Mark asked. "Does it have anything to do with why you're here?"

"Yes," Benny answered, beginning to cry again. "I need another beer," he mumbled.

Roger leaned over and kicked the box across the room. "Not right now, you don't," he said.

Benny sat back and sighed sadly. "She doesn't love me," he admitted.

"Who?" Joanne asked.

"Allison," he told her, "'Muffy.'" He giggled stupidly at the nickname.

"I don't blame her," Maureen muttered.

"She said," he went on, "that I've changed. I care more about what I do, and less about her father's business. She was right, though. After your performance, Mo, I felt bad. I'm sorry I almost kicked you out!"

"It's ok," Mark said, trying to calm him. The large man just stood, and stumbled across the way to the table. He grabbed another bottle from the second box.

"No, it's not," he answered, trying to open the bottle. "I felt bad, and started askin' her what t'do. She hates questions when she has t'think," he got the beer open, but stilled a puddle on the floor. "Oh, sorry," he took a drink, "so she thinks that we're not meant to be anymore. But I love her!"

"Is that why she went up north with her friends?" Joanne asked.

"Yes," Benny answered, "because she 'ates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Collins answered.

"Tha's ok," Benny stammered, coming back towards the couch. Mimi, who couldn't fall back asleep, stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I don't love 'er, e'her," he continued, almost falling into Mimi. "I just need t'get myself som'one else," he reached around and planted a drunken kiss on Mimi's lips.

Roger stood up, furious. "Man, I told you," he said, pulled Mimi away. He took his ex-friend's arm and dragged him towards the door. In the hall, benny fell ino a slimp against the wall.

"So sorry, Roger," he called after the angry young man, but the door was already slammed.

"What was _that_?" Collins wanted to know.

"I told him. Any funny business and he was out," he sat back down next to Mimi, putting a protective arm around her.

"You can't let him outside like that!" Mark shouted, walking towards the door. "You know what everyone here hates him."

Mark pulled open the large door, and looked up and down the hall. But Benny wasn't there.


	6. On the Streets of NYC

Last chapter! Now Its over!

* * *

Chapter 6: On the Streets of NYC

Benny stumbled down the streets of New York City, holding a half-empty bottle of Heineken. The sidewalks were dark and wet with early-evening rain. The only others out were the homeless, their fire visible in the tent-cities.

_Who needs them, anyway?_ He thought to himself. _Not me, that's for sure!_

As he rocked back and fourth, he tripped over an up-lifted cement slab, and uncoordinatedly fell to the ground. Luckily, his hands and knees softened his fall.

He leaned up against the wall, and wiped off his pants.

_Nice,_ he thought,_ a tear at the knee_. He looked closer. _And I'm bleeding._

He contemplated going back to the loft, but though again. They kicked him out, he wasn't wanted. He had been wrong, they weren't really his friends.

"Screw you!" he shouted back in the direction of the loft.

A homeless man extended his hand to the fallen drunk, and helped his up onto his feet.

"Don't curse the God's," he said, his voice gruff, "they already don't like us." Benny laughed.

"Come with me," he offered, motioning to a back street, "We got a fire going, and a little food."

Benny began to resist, and but decided to go. Tonight couldn't get any worse than it already was.

"Well," he said, "in the spirit of the holiday." He grinned, and walked along with the man.

At least there was _something_ to be thankful for.


End file.
